


songs of innocence and experience

by wildlings (candybank)



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: M/M, Spicy, avatar au where the fire nation won the war, mostly about the princes and royalty, will tag ships and characters as they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candybank/pseuds/wildlings
Summary: although the war was won and the avatar was pronounced dead, the children of the universe appeared only a few years later; people chosen by nature to have control over two elements. the fire nation had barely begun burning the world again when a fireprince was born able to manipulate both fire and water. they immediately stopped, then, and declared the children of the universe a gift from the heavens.(there is never anything quite like the bond between brothers, never anything quite like the greed for power, never anything quite like a family in the fire nation’s noble court trying to stay together.)





	1. tiger tiger, burning bright

**Author's Note:**

> bec i want to see yanchen in a historical drama please (here are a few pinterest boards to get u in the mood [♡](https://www.pinterest.ph/gturner1377/fire-nation/) [♡](https://www.pinterest.ph/veracausa/atla-fire-nation/) [♡](https://www.pinterest.ph/xi_abi_/fire-nation/))

although the war was won and the avatar was pronounced dead, the _children of the universe_ appeared only a few years later; people chosen by nature to have control over two elements. the fire nation had barely begun burning the world again when a fireprince was born able to manipulate both fire and water. they immediately stopped, then, and declared the children of the universe a gift from the heavens.

 

  _three-hundred years later —_

 

there is never anything quite like the bond between brothers, never anything quite like the greed for power, never anything quite like a family in the fire nation’s noble court trying to stay together.

xukun swung his wooden sword this way, and laughed when his playmate blocked it just right. with all the swiftness of a seven-year-old boy just barely starting his swordsman training, he swung again, aiming for ruibin’s head.

but like his element, ruibin was fluid; able to defend almost as soon as xukun could think of launching an attack.

“when do you think they’ll finish?” zhengting pushed his lips up into a pout and tilted his head, staring at the basket of fresh fruits barely two feet away from him.

“why? i didn’t know you were eager to fight,” yanchen replied; soft, amused smile on his lips.

“ _huh_?” zhengting exclaimed, scrunching his nose in annoyance, “i’m hungry! these are the first lychees of the season and they’re ‘gonna go bad!” not a moment sooner, with a flick of a finger, zhengting manipulated water out of the fountain and splashed the boys to keep them apart.

xukun yelled. ruibin sighed. zhengting laughed and called them over.

“enough of that! come over, let’s eat.”

ruibin bowed like a good swordsman, and xukun, only grinned. “chen ge was right—you _are_ pretty good at this. i guess even the son of a li palace scholar can be good at something.” and he laughed as he walked away, never realizing the weight of his words or the loudness of his actions.

 

—

 

they drank until dawn on the night of yanchen’s coronation. overjoyed and ecstatic and far too happy, reckless and young and bold. and they drank until everyone else had left.

“it’s okay, you can stop pretending now,” zhengting chuckled, his breath smelling like alcohol, as he watched yanchen pour out the contents of his wine jug into the fountain.

water coming back to water.

when zhengting almost toppled over, yanchen held him upright.

“take it easy, ge,” he said.

zhengting laughed again, as if he could laugh as long as stars remained in the sky.

“mhm, if you say so— _your highness_ —“ he burst into laughter as soon as he said it, yanchen chuckling along and holding him up.

“nothing has changed, zhengting,” yanchen reassured him, and he expected another laugh but all he got was a smile. zhengting struggling to sit up by himself, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve, knowing better.

“but everything has.”

 

—

 

and things changed quite quickly. brother after brother ascending to thrones, given their own lands, taking over governors.

“don’t tell yanchen,” zhengting said, uncautious and without guilt—and xukun only laughed as he tied his hair up into it’s usual ponytail, because he couldn’t understand why anyone would speak without ill intent.

“why?” he asked, as he never did.

“because i don’t want you to,” zhengting answered, still far too lazy to get out of xukun’s bed or even wrap clothes around himself.

“and i’ll do anything you want?” xukun scoffed, too busy pulling on his clothes to see the grin on zhengting’s lips, or the faraway look in his eyes.

“you let my nephew out of prison after he killed your guards, didn’t you?”

“he should be dead,” xukun spoke through gritted teeth, looking away from the mirror as he fastened his belt around his stomach.

but all tightness in his jaw vanished at the airy sound of zhengting’s charming laugh.

“he’s a headhunter, zhengting,” xukun tried, “with no loyalty. he could go after anyone next. he could go after my brothers.”

“oh please,” zhengting rolled his eyes, finally rising, wrapping the blankets around his body. he secured the piece of cloth around himself as he began to make tea in the adjoining chamber. “it’s just me, xukun. spare me the act. i know you want half of them dead.”

“i don’t.”

zhengting rolled his eyes again as he transferred leaves into cups. “okay…” he spoke softly, shuffling his words around like playing cards, “i know you want to be crowned prince.”

to which xukun replied with only the rustling of his clothes and silence. contempt. zhengting would have laughed if it wasn’t funny. he picked up a cup of tea and strolled over to xukun, bowing his head when he held the cup out of xukun to take. “have some tea to calm your nerves, your highness.”

xukun scoffed again, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “you’re the one who got me riled up in the first place.”

“oh, did i?” zhengting feigned innocence, as he did so well.

“i don’t drink tea.”

“hm,” zhengting finished the cup himself, “that’s unpatriotic,” he said, walking away unharmed when anyone else would have had their heads cut off.

 

—

 

chengcheng would have preferred to be locked up in the imperial library reading about irrigation systems than where he was: in the training garden, learning how to channel chi to create a flame, failing spectacularly for hours and hours. not that he particularly liked reading, but he did really hate training.

not a smile had graced his lips since they started, but his teacher never noticed these little things. he only noticed when little red sparks flew off chengcheng’s fingertips, noticed more when they didn’t.

“focus, your highness,” his teacher said for the tenth time, and chengcheng hated the subtle irritation in his voice.

hate and heat go hand, he had been told. he guessed it was true when a big, uncontrollable flame exploded from his hands. shooting up several feet into the sky, setting a nearby tree ablaze. everything quickly extinguished by his teacher, who only sighed, and, in his disappointment, cut the day short.

his entire body burning too hot, chengcheng kicked a sword stand down before walking back into his chambers. the winds blowing too hard all around him, knocking down vases and rustling flowers off of bushes.

“chengie!” only hours later, minghao barged into chengcheng’s chambers to find him laying on the couch, staring listlessly into nothing.

eyes rolling to the back of his head, he grabbed his friend’s arm and pulled him upright. “the new horses just arrived. let’s go hunting this afternoon! it’s a beautiful day.”

and as if he hadn’t spent the passing hours thinking too much about his troubles—as if he suddenly had no troubles at all, he jumped up and ran after his friend.


	2. in the forest of the night

zhengting ran to yanchen from all the way across the hall when he saw him exiting the throne room. “what did he say?” he asked, jogging up to his friend’s side, reading the lines on his forehead and the curve of his lip.

all downward, downcast. anxious and worried, and zhengting smiled as a vain attempt to ease the air.

“come on, let’s go back to your palace,” zhengting said, two hands on his arm to assist him. and yanchen was far too tired to refuse.

“where were you the past week?” yanchen asked over arms held up to his sides, servants sent away, zhengting taking off his armor and undoing this knot and that.

“i delivered those books to hongrang, remember?”

and yanchen said nothing as he pulled on a new set of white robes.

when he walked back out into the adjoining chamber, zhengting had set aside his bearings and poured wine. good natured and tired bones, yanchen sat down opposite him and drank bitter-sweet from silvercup.

and he could have asked a million other questions—should have asked something else entirely. how are my brothers? how is xukun? how is linong? is the city as charming as i remember it? and if it had been a few months into the past, he would have. but that was then, and so much had happened in court by then that all he could think to say was,

“so there’s nothing to worry about.”

zhengting paused, smiled. he put down his cup and looked up at yanchen. reaching across the table, he carefully pulled out the fire-shaped headpiece still tucked into yanchen’s bun. zhengting placed it down on the table gently, then returned to his drink.

“as long as i’m beside you, there won’t be.

xukun didn’t suspect a thing. and minghao arrived two weeks ago, didn’t he?”

yanchen nodded, picking up a piece of pastry off the tiny rack on the table.

zhengting paused. time stuttering for all of a second.

“i could—“

“no, zhengting.”

“i would do it,” zhengting said anyway, “you know i’ll serve you to my death.”

“i know,” when yanchen spoke, he kept his eyes elsewhere, looking back to zhengting only to say the next words, “that’s why i’m stopping you.”

 

—

 

zhengting pulled his robes loose, and tugged him closer. all lips crashing, throats burning, red wine in between their teeth and nothing else between them.

and when zhengting pushed him onto the bed, xukun found himself entirely willing to oblige. the candles around them burning too hot, his mouth too dry, zhengting’s lips on his chest too cold.

and he could hear himself—loudly, clearly. groaning deep, moaning loud. he looked to the door cautiously, closed his eyes and threw his head back just the same as zhengting’s mouth traveled too close to his bones. eyes opening when he felt the bed dip, when he felt kisses burning up his neck again, pressing against his mouth again. the taste of zhengting’s mouth all the same, the smell of his hair all the same. the feeling of his skin all the same, and xukun closed his eyes again.

zhengting’s mouth every which way, his hands gripping every bone, too close and never close enough. xukun opened his eyes to watch him, blinking hard when he saw two of him.

“your highness?” one asked, tilting his head in the way zhengting did.

and xukun had barely answered before a silk sheet was tied around his neck, being pulled on both ends. “zhengting—stop, i can’t—“

tighter and tighter and tighter until—“your highness?”

xukun shot up, nearly toppling the cup of wine in zhengting’s hand onto the floor.

he realized a beat too late that he was breathing heavily, loudly, hands shaking and clammy when they reached up to hold zhengting’s face.

and zhengting, all wide, surprised eyes. all pale skin even in the moonlight. he stared at xukun for a moment before chuckling softly. “you had a bad dream,” he said observantly, guiding xukun’s hand to hold the cup, to drink from it.

and only when the liquid reached his stomach did xukun begin to remember how to catch his breath.

“i dreamt—“

“it was just a dream.” zhengting smiled kindly, and xukun looked at him for all of a moment.

hands steady again when he reaches up to hold zhengting’s face in between them again. “you’re here,” he said, brushing his thumb across zhengting’s cheek.

zhengting leaned into his touch, one hand over his as he spoke. “in my room?” as he laughed. “of course.” as he looked at xukun endearingly.

and xukun took no pause, not another moment spared. a man of war used to quick, clear decisions and immediate response. he leaned forward to kiss zhengting. and zhengting kissed him back, just softly, just gently, just sweetly and lewdly—all in one breath.

“it’s your wedding night,” zhengting reminded him, “you should be with your wife.”

“i couldn’t sleep,” xukun answered, stopping time to kiss zhengting again.

and zhengting, all stomach twisting into knots and laughter playing across his lips. he wrapped his arms around xukun’s neck and disappeared with him in between the sheets.

 

—

 

“he was saying my name in his sleep,” zhengting chuckled, “he was seeing me in his dreams.”

yanchen laughed as he ran his hands along the rosewood shelves—as if he were examining them, as if he knew anything about rosewood shelves, or anything about anything besides how to lead a nation.

but zhengting was right to say that looking for a new vacation house was a good pastime, a good excuse to be away for a while, a good excuse to disappear.

“i suppose you like that,” he teased. zhengting rolled his eyes.

“wouldn’t hurt you to dream of me once in a while.”

and yanchen chuckled to humor him. “you know… it’s not too late to quit. i won’t deny you of a good life.”

zhengting was staring at a mirror hanging on the wall when he heard it, and he saw himself laugh. it was a funny thing, as if he was watching someone else. as if he didn’t know what he was about to say, but his reflection had already made up its mind. he wondered if any time had passed between yanchen speaking and his own laughter echoing around the room.

“a _good_ life?” he scoffed, “and what’s that exactly? sneaking around with him from thousands of miles away and getting myself off to letters that never arrive? is that what you mean?”

and yanchen couldn’t find the answer to it, so zhengting spoke for him.

“no,” zhengting answered himself. “i serve _you_. i’m loyal to _you_.

you’re my best friend.”

 

— 

 

“would you like to go outside for a walk?”

zhengting narrowed his eyes at wenjun and laughed. “you know royals and court officials can’t go out on the day of black sun.

are you going to kill me?”

wenjun shook his head and blinked. and zhengting knew better than to think he was lying, then again, he was always half a step too clever.

he laughed again, drinking wine from an ornate gold cup again. “you know, it makes me sad that i don’t believe you.”

wenjun only bowed his head, smiled a little. he poured zhengting another cup of alcohol and placed a piece of bread on his plate. and zhengting, just a little drunk. he chuckled and grabbed wenjun towards him, looping his arm around wenjun’s and pushing a drink into his hands.

“it’s so unfortunate that this is happening in the spring,” zhengting pouted, resting his head on wenjun’s shoulder. “i love the afternoon breeze in spring,” he said, closing his eyes to dream about it, hair rustling gently in the soft winds that come and go at the bend of wenjun’s fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> yet another avatar au LMAO........HOPE U HAD A GOOD TIME MWA..


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